


The ghost with dark eyes

by Lyrae



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Children, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Jim is a Little Shit, M/M, Moriarty - Freeform, POV Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae/pseuds/Lyrae
Summary: Sherlock is lying into the mud, too tired to get himself out of the ditch he was pushed into, when a boy dressed as a ghost suddenly appears and holds out his hand.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes & Jim Moriarty
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	The ghost with dark eyes

**Author's Note:**

> For the Halloween prompt on amino!

"What are you doing there? "

Sherlock doesn't bother looking up, keeping his eyes on his soaked pirate hat. 

He knows the other- another child, probably around his age if he trusts the voice- is probably wondering why someone would just stay half sprawled in a muddy ditch with water up to their knees, but he's just too tired to move or explain. 

"I think your costume looks cool. "

This makes him react, his eyes automatically glancing up before he can stop them. 

"Liar."

It's not like his pirate outfit looked nice before, but now that it's all dirty and that the fabric is even torn up, there's no way in hell he even looks remotely good. 

"Why would I lie? " 

The other boy is merely wearing a white sheet with two holes cut in for his eyes, his face hidden beneath the fabric with no way to tell what his expression is like, whether or not he's actually mocking him. ..

Sherlock stands up, glancing in distaste at his dirty hands before focusing on the other once more. 

"I don't know yet, but you should be able to tell that I have nothing left to give. "

His angry tone is only met with a tilted head, the fabric fluttering around the child. 

"I don't want anything from you, I was just passing by and got curious… " he lets the words permeate the cold hair between them before grabbing the inside of his sheet and sticking out his other hand. "Do you need help to climb back up? "

Pale skin, thin fingers and jutting bones… Sherlock really isn't sure how that boy will be able to help him when that limb could belong to the ghost he's currently masquerading as, but for some reason-

"Alright, don't let me fall though. "

His reluctant answer is only met with amusement, and after a second, he grabs the outstretched hand, almost surprised when he doesn't just phase through the boy. 

His skin isn't icy cold, like he had expected, but gently warm, and his grip is surprisingly strong for a child of his size, but during the time of an instant, he meets the other's eyes and 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦𝘴.

It must be the night, he tells himself, the night or just the way the white fabric falls on his face, he knows that, but for one second, Sherlock could swear that the two holes were just filled with darkness, unfathomable abysses hidden beneath the sheet. 

"Thank you. " he swallows his questions, squashes that flash of fear. 

"You're welcome. "

There's a silent beat, a blank second where they just stare at one another, before the smaller child speaks again. 

"How did you end up down there anyway? You didn't fall on your own, did you? "

Sherlock's eyes widen before sharpening, but he stays stubbornly silent. 

"And it looks like someone walked on your hat… "

The black eyes are visible now, slightly curious, strangely piercing. 

"Who was it? "

𝘖𝘩, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦?

"Why would that interest you? "

"Why wouldn't it? "

Is glowering the best thing to do? Probably not, but it's what Sherlock does nonetheless. 

"C'mon dear-" the voice is amused now, amused yet icy cold, traces of an accent he hadn't noticed yet seeping into the words "You do owe me that, don't you? I helped you out of that ditch, I would just like to know who to avoid in order not to end up in one. "

Well, it 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 make sense, but something in the other's tone tells him it's not just about that.

"Powers, Carl Powers, a boy from my school, he's in the town's junior swimming team so you might have seen his picture in the paper, but just try to avoid his gang really. "

The other smiles, or Sherlock thinks he does at least, with the way his eyes crinkle. 

"Carl Powers uh? I'll be sure to remember that… " he trails out, seemingly lost in thought for a second, before ultimately turning on his heels. "Thank you… Sherlock Holmes. "

And before he has the time to ask how the boy even knows his name, the ghost disappears in the night. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's just a short little thing but I hope y'all liked this!


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